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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066133">Anniversary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlealex/pseuds/littlealex'>littlealex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sorted (Website) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Confessions, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:21:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlealex/pseuds/littlealex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben gets more than he bargained for when James takes him to a fancy restaurant on a random day in September.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Currie/Ben Ebbrell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anniversary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousCorruption/gifts">LuminousCorruption</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First ever Sorted fic; haven't written fanfic in any meaningful capacity in 7 years so please be kind! Thanks very much to those on Discord for prompts and so much love ♥ Prompt was "James and Ben, being misunderstood as a couple on a date".</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ben has been waiting at the table for only a few minutes when James arrives, escorted by the restaurant hostess. Not impatiently, but even he will admit he’s a little on edge. It’s been a while since he and James went to dinner, just the two of them, and it’s certainly the <i>nicest</i> place they’ve been together - two Michelin stars and, yes, okay, this probably doesn’t entirely fit under the “simple and easy cooking for home chefs” brief that their Sorted inspiration dinners should, but he couldn’t exactly turn down James’ invite, could he?</p><p>“You scrub up nicely,” James says by way of greeting, the corner of his mouth lifting in what Ben reads as a smirk, but there’s no hint of the sarcasm he might expect from one of the others.</p><p>Ben smiles back, shrugging, taking in James in his suit - which only just manages to look like it’s been perfectly tailored. There’s just a centimetre too much wrist showing at his cuffs, and Ben tries not to stare as James settles into his chair and the hostess retreats. “Not so bad yourself,” he returns, clearing his throat.</p><p>Ben will admit that he put some effort into what he was wearing this evening, selecting the only suit he’d actually ever had tailored for him and spending <i>far</i> too much time deciding which tie and pocket square complemented it just right. He told himself it was all to meet the dress code, but that’s a bit of a stretch, as it only specified slacks and a collared shirt with closed-toe shoes - not exactly a high bar to clear. He knew intellectually that he just wanted to impress James <i>as a chef, of course</i> but, in truth - the kind of truth he couldn’t ever admit aloud let alone to himself - it was more about the massive crush he’d had on James since they first met.</p><p>But he’s not thinking about that as the waiter unobtrusively appears at their table with the degustation menu. “Is there any occasion we’re celebrating this evening?” the waiter asks, smiling at each of them as he places the menus precisely in front of them without breaking eye contact. “An anniversary, perhaps?”</p><p>Ben opens his mouth to protest, but the breath catches in the back of his throat as James smooths his hand over the back of Ben’s own. “Are we that obvious?” James asks, his fingers slipping between Ben’s thumb and forefinger, calloused fingertips grazing the palm of Ben’s hand. The touch sends a jolt right through Ben, but his mind can’t help but focus on the private smile on James’ mouth.</p><p>The waiter smiles back. “I just have an eye for these things,” he says with a small wink.</p><p><i>Am I on Candid Camera?</i> Ben thinks wildly, watching as James settles on sparkling water for the table and asks for the wine pairing menu. <i>Maybe I’m dreaming? Did I get hit by that car that nearly took me out on the pedestrian crossing earlier? I could be in a coma right now. It would explain the hallucinations I’m clearly having.</i> But then the waiter leaves and James squeezes his hand and chuckles, as if they’ve just shared some sort of hilarious joke.</p><p>Ben finds his tongue, then, and pulls his hand back, breaking the spell. “What was that?” he hisses, leaning across the table.</p><p>James smiles serenely, taking a sip of his water. “I thought we might have a bit of fun,” he says, raising his shoulders ever so slightly in a shrug.</p><p>But Ben can’t just shrug this off. As much as there are certain truths he would rather not address, he’s honest enough with himself that he’s always known he was gay, and he’s not the kind of person to play it up for a bit of fun. Certainly not just for special service at a nice restaurant.</p><p>He purses his lips and sits back in his seat, grinding his teeth and wondering what on earth he’s supposed to say as he stares intently at the menu. He’s not really reading the words, his mind whirring. James leans forward this time, leaning low and catching Ben’s eye. “Hey, come on,” he says, low and gentle, and Ben hates that his insides melt and he can’t look away and damn it he’s meant to be <i>angry</i> about this. “I’m sure he won’t mention it again. And you never know, there might be a glass of Champagne for a brief moment’s embarrassment.”</p><p>Ben’s pretty sure that the embarrassment will last the whole meal, but he’s not about to walk out just because he can feel the heat rising up his neck. “I just don’t like lying,” he says, and thinks, <i>God that was dramatic</i>.</p><p>“Well,” James says in a reasonable tone, the private smile returning to his lips, “we’re not <i>technically</i> lying.”</p><p>Ben’s not sure he can take any more. “What -” he starts, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. “Where -” he tries again, but the right question isn’t coming to him. So he just goes with the next one. “How on <i>earth</i> do you figure that?”</p><p>“It <i>is</i> our anniversary,” James says, matter-of-factly, as though this was common knowledge and they celebrated it with a fancy dinner every year. “We met at UCB on this date, all those years ago,” he says, and there’s a fondness in his voice Ben tries to ignore. Because James doesn’t share - <i>have, not share, because I don’t have any</i> - any romantic feelings. <i>Right?</i></p><p>“I-” Ben starts, but doesn’t know <i>what</i> he’s meant to say. “I didn’t know that.”</p><p>The smile on James’ face is now a grin. “Last year, we went to the Bigger Than The Plate exhibit at the V&amp;A. The year before that, we had that picnic in Victoria Park. One year - it must have been 2013, 2014 maybe? - we were so busy we basically lived at the studio, so I just made you banh mi with your favourite pâté and gave you a shoulder rub. Do you remember?”</p><p>Of course Ben remembers. The moments flash through his mind, and he wonders what other memories he’s missing out on from 13 September. That’s just the tip of the thought iceberg that’s freezing him right now, though. How long has James marked the date? Why is he only saying something now? And the real, terrifying question - what does it <i>mean</i>?</p><p>“I remember,” Ben mumbles, and he’s never felt more foolish in his life. “But why?” The question escapes him, unbidden, but it’s the one he’s feeling in the pit of his tangled stomach. It’s the only question that will give him the answer he needs.</p><p>Ben didn’t think James’ smile could broaden any further, but it does. “Because,” James says in a low voice, almost a whisper, “I’ve had a horrible schoolboy crush on you since then. And I know, I know, this is stupid and reckless, and I shouldn’t have, but -” he reaches out and takes Ben’s hand again, and Ben’s pretty sure his heart actually escapes his chest, “- I just had to know. If you feel the same.” There’s a flush creeping up from James’ collar, snaking its way in irregular patches up his neck, and Ben can’t think of anything but pressing his lips against heated skin.</p><p>“Oh, James,” he exhales, the name tumbling from him as though it’s part of his breath. He doesn’t know what to say, <i>again</i>, but at least he knows what to do this time. He reaches across the table with his free hand, palm cupping the curve of James’ jawline, and James picks up the hint and leans in. They meet in the middle, lips touching almost chastely for their first kiss, but a shiver thrills through Ben’s body at the contact. It’s as sweet as he ever imagined, and far more romantic, and he feels warmed through by the time he remembers to breathe and pulls away.</p><p>Neither of them says a word, but there’s volumes that Ben just can’t wait to dive into, and he suddenly feels thankful for the eight course degustation ahead of them.</p>
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